


Kings, Dungeons, And A Little Touch Of Magic

by WeepingBadWolf



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Concerned Arthur, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Hurt Merlin, Magic Revealed, Reveal, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:21:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeepingBadWolf/pseuds/WeepingBadWolf
Summary: It was a trap. Merlin should've known. And now him and Arthur are stuck in a dirty old cell. Boring, right? They wished something, anything would happen... But be careful what you wish for... Now Merlin's being tortured and Arthur has to watch. But what happens when Merlin doesn't KNOW Arthur's watching? What happens when Arthur can't call out, can't let Merlin know he's there? What about when there's magic?





	1. 1

"Rise and shine!" Chirped an overly cheery voice to Arthur's left, and suddenly sunlight flooded the room, invading Arthur's exhausted eyes. The king buried his face in the pillow, attempting to escape the bright rays that disrupted his slumber.

"Come on, Arthur!" The voice continued. "You know you have a council meeting to attend! And may I just point out that I'm actually on time today?"

Arthur groaned and begrudgingly sat up, bare chest heaving in a yawn. "Stupid council meetings," he muttered. "And you should be on time every day, like every other servant in the castle. You shouldn't get special recognition for doing the same as everyone else."

"Yes, but I am special!" Merlin grinned.

"Hmm," Arthur said, yawning again. "How long 'till the meeting?"

"Half a hour."

"Ten more minutes sleeping, then?"

"Arthur," Merlin said in an exasperated tone. "When you're late, you'll blame me, like always, and I'll have to do twice as many chores! And muck out the stables!"

"They do need doing..." Arthur said thoughtfully.

"Arthur!"

"Fine!" The king sat up slowly, with a shiver and a groan. Merlin immediately chucked him a pile of clothes, which landed in a heap by his bare feet.

"I have to go help Gaius," he explained to a confused and miffed looking king.

"Merlin-" The door banged shut, and Arthur sighed, staring at the stack of clothing on the floor, wondering what he was supposed to put on first.

Arthur strode into the meeting room, and took a seat at the head of the table. The meeting was as dull as usual, all about pointless things that any peasant could handle. Why did it have to be him?

Half way through the hour-long gathering, Merlin slid into the room, mouthing a 'sorry' to Arthur as he passed him to top up his goblet. Arthur hardly noticed - he was half asleep. He had got up earlier due to Merlin's uncommon punctuality, and he had had a late night yesterday. He was up half the night writing a speech about the upcoming jousting tournament, which he was not allowed to compete in this time. He was the judge. The young king imagined it would be amazingly boring, and hoped Merlin could keep him company.

"-Am I right, my Lord?" Sir Leon was speaking to him, Arthur noticed. Everyone looked to him expectantly.

"Uh..." What were they saying? "Sorry, I didn't hear. What was it, you're speaking of?" He hoped they had not been talking about it long, or he would look extremely stupid.

"We just had an entire conversation about it, Sire." Ah. "Sir Coleman believes that the dirt in the lower town could-"

He stopped, as they heard a polite knock on the door, and it opened to reveal a young man and woman. The man had a deep brown shock of hair that hung just to the tip of his ears, and wore shabby clothes that were worn in patches and had rips and dirt rubbed on it. The woman was in a similar condition, wearing a beige dress that laced up at he top. She was blonde and pretty.

Arthur did not believe them to be from Camelot, and was curious as to whom the strangers were. The pair bowed as they entered, but Arthur gestured to them to stand back up almost immediately. His father liked to leave people bowed down to him for quite some time, but Arthur saw it as unnecessary and a waste of time. A simple nod would do, if that.

"I hope we're not disturbing you, My lord," the man said. He had a deep voice, and it seemed to rumble. "We can come back at a later date, if this point in time is inconvenient."

"No, no, please! Carry on!" Arthur said hurriedly. They were a lovely distraction from whatever conversations and arguments the council were having. About dirt. The king just hoped that there was some sort of mission he would be called for, and he was not disappointed.

"Well, we came to ask you for you're help," the lady said, with a sweet, soft voice that soothed Arthur. He felt even more sleepy than before.

"It's our horses," the man admitted. "They've walked straight into a bog just outside of your borders, Sire. We're travellers, you see, and without them we have nothing. Our village was burned by a dragon, not a year ago."

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the strangers. He didn't think Kilgharrah would attack any random villages without good reason, and there were no other dragons left. He gazed wearily at them, trying to determine their innocence.

"Of course, " Arthur said gravely. "We too were terrorised by this dragon. Luckily, it is now deceased, probably not too long after it attacked your village... What is it called?"

"Heringshire, my lord. It is a tiny place on the borders of Cenred's kingdom, often overlooked. We usually go unnoticed, unless anyone crosses directly across our land accidentally. I doubt you'll have heard of it."

"I have to admit, I have never come across it. But about your horses - I am offering you two of Camelot finest mares. Should you take them?"

"You can't just leave the poor, innocent horses to drown, Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, his love of anything furry showing.

"I would have to agree, my lord," the woman said, interrupting the words that Merlin imagined would be 'shut up Merlin' that were forming on the kings lips. Her voice was so soothing it was almost hypnotic. "It would be cruel to let them die that way after all they've helped us through."

"I completely agree," Arthur said nodding, but with a slight glare in Merlin's direction. "Which is why I am now offering my services. I'll help you and your horses, and give you a bed for the night, if you so please."

"Oh no, Sire!" The man said quickly. "We would feel like a total inconvenience. We would much rather be on our way as quickly as possible!" Merlin seemed to be the only one to see this as suspicious.

"Well, okay then, but please ask if you change your mind. And in the meantime, take advantage of our hospitality and stay for dinner. We honestly would not mind at all!"

"Well, if you put it like that, of course we will! Just once I know our horses are safe and sound!"

"Of course! We shall ride out now, to rescue them." Arthur strode out of the room, gesturing for Merlin to follow.

Merlin, Arthur, Max and Julie, (the names of the two strangers), were marching down the path at a quick pace, so as to get to the horses before the worst happened to the poor creatures.

Merlin was all for saving animals, and was quietly glad that Arthur was helping instead of shooting animals for once. It was just Max and Julie that he found suspicious. He didn't know why, really. It was just the way the woman spoke. Almost like she was using magic, but in every day speech, which Merlin knew to be impossible. Maybe it was just magic he could sense. Magic in general. They weren't using it against anyone yet, if they did have it, so Merlin tried not to judge them too much. He decided to try and find out a bit about them.

"So, Julie and Max. If you lived on Cenred's border, why did you come to Camelot for help?"

"We don't live there. That is where we're from," Max said with a smile. "We travel. Want to see the world. And it just so happened that your king was the fastest kingdom to get to, and we had heard of his kind and just nature, and hoped he could help us! And we were not disappointed."

Merlin made a non-committal hum, whereas Arthur beamed at the praise. Before Merlin could ask anything else, Julie spoke brightly.

"Here we are!"

They stepped past a cluster of trees, and there was the marshy bog right in front of them.

"I... Don't see any horses..." Merlin said uncertainly.

"You don't thing they're already under?" Arthur worried.

"No," said Max, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We don't. Because they were never there."

"What? Then why're we here?" Arthur exclaimed, and Merlin was much less shocked, having suspected from the start that it was a trap. He stood up taller, bracing himself for attack. He expected someone to pounce on them, try and knock them out, but he hadn't even considered magic. He should have, yet he didn't.

"Because we need you, Arthur Pendragon, and your little manservant. Cwsg, fy frenin, drwy gydol y nos, heb amharu ar!"

Both the king, and his servant, collapsed onto the woodland floor in a heap of limbs, in a deep slumber.

Julia said one sentence. One sentence, and Merlin and Arthur's world would change forever... Who's to say for the better or worse?


	2. 2

It was dark... The floor was damp and dirty with dust inches thick... something cold was cutting into his wrists...

Where was he?

He didn't remember coming here... His head throbbed, it felt like a thousand dwarfs were in there, hacking at his brain. His mind was foggy, and he couldn't quite remember anything that might tell him why - and how - he was in that room.

What was that room?

It was cold, he knew. There was no light. Something was around his wrists. he tugged experimentally at the rusty chains that dangled from the shackles, and found them attached to the wall. This... This was a cell. A prison. A dungeon.

Arthur Pendragon was in a dungeon. And he didn't even know why.

"Merlin?" He whispered, squinting, trying to see something - anything, but with no avail.

"Merlin!" He said, a little more loudly, now feeling the ground around him, for something to be used as a weapon, a key, or some item of for - he was ravenous. How long had he been out? There was nothing but masses of dust, which made him sneeze.

Then he heard a scream of terror.

Merlin woke with a groan. Everything hurt - his head the worst. He prodded it gingerly, revealing a raised lump on the back of it. He must have hit it on something when Julie's said that spell...

That spell! Merlin sat up, noticing the shackles on his wrists for the first time. They were heavy and weighed his arms down. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face, it was so dark. Not a window or candle in sight. Where was he?

The warlock yanked on his chains, trying - in vain - to escape them, hoping it was so rusty that they would just snap with a bit of pressure. He had no such luck.

"Arthur?" he called tentatively. "Are you here?"

No reply.

"Hello?" he said, louder. "Anyone?"

Merlin looked at the cuffs on his wrists. Well, in the general direction. A thought crossed his mind. No Arthur... He could magic himself out of there!

His eyes glowed briefly, a dazzling gold swirl, and then returned to his natural blue tint. The shackles snapped and clattered loudly to the floor. He held his breath, expecting a guard to come marching down towards him to kill him or lock him up again. But, since his sight was failing him, and his ears couldn't pick anything up out of the ordinary, he assumed that either nobody had heard, or there wasn't anyone out there anyway, and they just intended for him and Arthur to starve. Assuming Arthur was actually anywhere nearby.

"Arthur!" he yelled again, standing up slowly, hands out in front of him so he didn't walk into anything.

"Forbearnen," he whispered, and a flame appeared in his hand, though it did not burn. It lit up the world around him dimly, and lit up a dark face.

He screamed.

The man in front of him guffawed loudly, mocking his terror. He had a round belly - his beige leather belt that held up the dark cotton trousers looked like it was going to burst any moment. He wore a grubby grey shirt that was baggy and long.

"Who are you?" Merlin demanded, showing more confidence than he felt. In fact, inside, he was trembling in fear.

"Me?" The man laughed. "Nobody, really. Just a man with a dream... And somebody here that can make it happen!"

"What can Arthur have that you want so badly?"

The man chortled again, belly bouncing. "Arthur? He cant get me anything at all of worth. It's you that I need... Arthur's here merely to ensure your cooperation!"

"You leave him alone!" Merlin shouted. "Where is he? Let me see him!"

The man made a face, like he was contemplating it. "Hmm... I don't know... Actually, maybe it is a good idea! Guards!" he hollered this last word. Almost immediately, four armed guards marched into the dimly lit corridor, carrying torches. Merlin let his own flame die. It wouldn't be good if Arthur saw it, anyway.

Merlin looked around him. The bars were rusty, but not so much that they could be snapped. By hand...

"torri'r bariau hyn a thorrwch eu croen metel!"

...Nothing happened,

"Toddwch yr haearn sy'n fy ngalw yn y lle hwn!"

The man burst in to fits of laughter. "Dear, dear, Emrys! That won't work in here! Completely magic proof! Can't break those bars!"

"How do you know who I am? What do you want?"

"Well, In answer to your first question, I have done some... Research, you might say. And I need the cup of life. Where is it?" It sounded less like a question, more like a demand.

"I don't know! I've not seen it in months!"

"Ah, you see, I don't believe you. That's why I knew having a hostage would be such a good idea..."

At that moment, two guards came strolling in, with Arthur in tow, struggling all the way. He looked dirty, and dusty, like he had been left on a shelf for a week.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed. The king looked groggy, but relatively unharmed, apart from a raw looking ring around his wrists. Obviously he had been chained too.

"Merlin!" The king replied with equal fervour. "Are you okay? They've not hurt you or anything?"

Merlin shook his head, and the laughy-man guffawed again. The sound was really getting on Merlin's nerves!

"You two are adorable! Really! You could be in love, you're so soppy!" Merlin and Arthur made a disgusted face at that remark. "No? Alright then. Lets get straight to business..."


	3. 3

"What do you want? Gold? I can get you gold, as much as you'd like," Arthur tried.

The man laughed - again! "If it were gold I was looking for, I would have just stolen it. I am not a poor man... No. It is something else I need."

"I don't know where it is!" Merlin exclaimed.

"What?"

"The cup of life," their captor said.

"The what now?"

"It can bring someone back from the dead," Merlin told him.

"Huh? Why don't we have one?"

"A, it's magic, and B, it brings someone back at the cost of another life."

"You mean, kill one person to save another?"

"Exactly."

"But," laughy-man interrupted. "I bet you didn't know this - very, very few do - there is a way to take somebody's lifespan away from them and add it to your own. In other words, I could live forever!"

"That is barbaric! Nobody should live forever, especially when they kill to do it!" Arthur exclaimed.

"You see, Pendragon, I don't care what you think! Now spill, Emrys, or else!"

"Emrys?"

Merlin just shrugged, like he had no idea what he was talking about, but he wouldn't meet his king's eyes.

"He doesn't know?" The man burst into fits of laughter.

"No, he doesn't. What the hell are you talking about?" Arthur said frustratedly.

"Oh, it's not my place to say... Yet. But if you're not going to tell me where the cup is, I suppose I'll just have to come back later..."

"Never."

"Well then! See you later!"

The man strode out of the room with a wicked grin on his face, slamming the rusted bars on the door shut and turning the key. The metal groaned, and what was left of the paint flaked away. Their cell obviously hadn't been used for a long time.

"Merlin! Care to explain?"

He did, but not about his magic. He said that the crazed man seemed to think he had it, or knew who did, making out that he had no idea what it was, nor who Emrys is.

"Right..." Arthur said with a frown. "So how're we going to escape?"

"Uh..." Merlin furrowed his brow in thought. "See if the bars have any rotted places?"

"It's as good a plan as any," Arther said, standing up to prod and wiggle the bars with his servant.

It was two whole hours before the pair finally gave up yanking the rusted bars, and they had got a fair ammount of little cuts from where they had sliced their hands on rusted or sharp pieces of metal. Merlin was picking a splinter of flaked paint out of his hand.

"What now? There are no loose bricks, nor rotten bars. How do we escape?" Merlin asked, flicking the newly exposed splinter away onto the dirty ground.

"We could ambush that man when he comes back next, knock him out and take his key?"

"Alright."

But since it was not a plan that could be put into action immediately, the men got very bored, very quickly.

Merlin drew a noughts and crosses game onto the floor, marking the floor using the dust. He put a big 'X' in the left hand corner of it, and looked to Arthur expectantly. He just stared back, with a face that screamed 'idiot'.

"Fine!" the warlock huffed, rubbing it out with his hand. "Well, what do you propose we do to pass the time?"

"I don't know, Merlin!"

So they sat in silence, neither saying a word, or really doing anything. Merlin nodded off for a while, accidentally.

He woke up with a jolt. He heard the dim sound of voices, and saw the flickering flames of a torch. Their own one was getting smaller and smaller by the minute.

Finally, laugh-y man and a pair of guards came marching in, both carrying a tiny plate of food, on top of which, was a single slice of bread and a hunk of stale cheese.

"We can't eat that!" Arthur turned up his nose at the old looking food. Merlin would swear he saw some mould on the crust of the bread.

"Well, if you insist," the man gestured to the guards to take it away again. "Now, where's the cup?"

"I don't know! And who are you, anyway?" Merlin demanded.

"Lord Quintin. But you can call me Quin. Now, stop lying to me, boy, and tell me where you've hidden the cup!"

"I swear, I have no idea!" Merlin sounded stressed, and Arthur could hear his tummy rumbling from the other side of the cell, like his own. It had taken a lot of willpower to turn down that food, mouldy or not.

"You leave him alone! If he doesn't know, he doesn't know!" Arthur shouted at Quin. That's a girls name, he thought with a snort.

"Something funny, Sire?" He spat the word like it tasted foul in his mouth.

"Just your girly name, Quin!" Arthur shot the name in a perfect imitation of Quin when he called Arthur Sire.

Quin grit his teeth in anger, strode up to Arthur and struck him across the face, hard. The slap echoed all around the castle, and Arthur had a hand shaped print raised on his face. Merlin jumped at the noise, wincing.

"Shut up," he hissed, teeth clenched. "Now, I will ask one. More. Time. Answer me now, and the consequences will not be so dire. Where is the cup?" His voice had gone deadly quiet. Merlin and Arthur were silently terrified, though neither would admit it. Merlin sat up taller and raised his chin defiantly, only to have it struck down in a fashion identical to Arthur's. The nice echoed everywhere and his cheek stung and felt hot, like he had just had hot water splashed on him. He threw up his hands to protect himself. His cheek throbbed.

"I'll be back, and next time I won't be so lenient."

The cell door clanged to a shut.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin and Arthur had lost all sense of time. had they been there days? Hours? Neither one could tell. Their torch had long gone out, so they were left in the dark - both figuratively and literally. Quin and his henchmen still hadn't returned, and they had no idea what he was doing, nor what he planned to do to get Merlin to tell him where the cup was. And Merlin seriously did not know.

The two men were ravenous. Their stomachs growled, aching to be fed. Ant the thirst... There were no words to convey how very thirsty they were, how much they wanted a glass of water. Their tacky tounges stuck to the roofs of their mouths.

But the worst thing wasn't the hunger, nor the thirst. It wasn't the musty, stale air, or even the cold, hard stone floor beneath them.

It was pure boredom.

Arthur did not fare well with boredom. He was never idle, always active, never still or quiet. He was forever training or hunting or out on patrols. He found it almost impossible to just sit around, not doing anything productive. It was for these reasons that he hated reading. Arthur was so bored, that he almost considered taking Merlin up on that offer to play noughts and crosses...

"When d'you think he'll come back?" Merlin said in a monotone.

"Dunno," Arthur replied in an equally flat voice. "Maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just starve us to death."

"I'll die of boredom in a much shorter time span."

"Me too.."

They were plunged into the same silence they had been in since they had tried to break out. Arthur started drawing in the dust beneath him. He drew a little dragon, in reference to Camelot. It was badly drawn, a six year old could've done better, but it _was_ a dust drawing. What could you expect? And he was no artist at the best of times. He didn't have the patience.

Arthur looked over at Merlin, to see that he was drawing too. Only he had drawn a little flame. Arthur wished it were real. At least he'd be able to see properly, then. His eyes had adjusted slightly to the blackness of the room, only just enough to make out the lines on the ground beneath them.

A few more minutes of silence, and Arthur had drawn two little stick men having a sword fight. Merlin had done an apple tree. It was quite good, be had to admit.

Finally, Arthur couldn't take it any longer.

" _Hello_?" he yelled as loud as he possibly could. It echoed off the stone walls, making the noise sound twice as loud. Merlin jumped, having become used to the silence.

"Shhh!" he hushed.

"Shut up, Merlin!" To Arthur's surprise, he actually did!

Arthur continued calling. "Is anyone there? Can't we even get a drink?"

There was, unsurprisingly, no answer. Arthur began pacing up and down the teeny cell. Merlin put up with this for a total of five minutes before he snapped, and he was quite proud of making it that far.

"Arthur!" He snapped. "Will you stand still for two minutes? How is pacing helping anything?"

"I don't know! There isn't anything I  _can_  do that actually would help, but I am bored out of my skull here! What would you rather I do? Run laps?"

"Don't be an idiot," Merlin sighed, propping his head up on his hand. "I'm bored too."

"I only wish  _something_  would happen!"

That was his mistake, wishing. He would later regret that thought. He would really,  _really_  regret it.

They had both drifted off. Again. Arthur told himself off, but then realised that he couldn't stay awake forever. It was just... He wanted to make sure none of them hurt Merlin. Again. That slap had made him want to throttle Quin, but when they had done it to Merlin...

When he was free, those men would pay.

Merlin woke - again - to the sound of speaking, and the soft glow of a torch. Only this time, he could hear something else, too. The sloshing of water in a large container.

Merlin was parched. He had not drunken anything since the morning they were taken - which must have been two days ago, at least. Maybe. Each minute seemed like an hour in that place, so honestly, he wasn't sure.

When the men came into view, it wasn't with a cup, or even a bucket of water like he had hoped. No. What they had Brought filled Merlin and Arthur with dread.

It was a huge, copper tub of water, it must have been at least as big as Arthur's desk.

"What... Why?" Arthur wasn't actually confused, he just really, really hoped that what he suspected it would be used for would be wrong. Maybe they would be apple bobbing? That would be fun, he thought, but then he scolded himself for being so immature.

Quin chortled. "I warned you," he said. "I said that I wouldn't be Mr. Nice Guy anymore." he waved a hand toward Arthur,and the guards moved on to chain him to the wall. Arthur couldn't throw them off. The malnourishment and dehydration had made him weak. "So here I am... Emrys. Where. Is. The.  _Cup_?"

"I haven't seen it, I don't know! You need to ask someone else because I just don't know!"

"I don't believe you!" Quin yanked Merlin to the edge of the tub by the hem of his dirty sleeve. Merlin stumbled forwards, scraping his knee on the rough flooring.

" _Where_?" He hissed, with a fistful of Merlin's dark locks. He held him threateningly by the edge of the tub.

"I don't-"  _Splash_! Merlin's head was submerged in the icy water. The warlock inadvertently gasped as the cold splashed up the back of his neck, breathing in the liquid.

It was so cold that it burned, and Merlin, under any other circumstances, would've wondered if the had put actual ice in there. It was colder than a snowman's nose.

Merlin thrashed around in the tub, beating the sides, shoving the bottom as though he might be able to somehow tear the metal apart. He didn't know what he was doing, just that he had to get out. His stomach was crushed against the thin copper rim of the tub, and it cut in painfully. Merlin barely registered it. The panic overtook him.

He would drown in there! Oh, gods, he would die in that cell, completely hopeless.

But he wasn't hopeless... was he? He didn't even think about it, just felt the hand pushing down on his head, and focused on it. He focused on the panic, on the dread, on the fear, and his eyes glowed the brightest shade of gold you would ever see. Quin threw his hand backwards, like he had been burnt. There was a red welt on his palm. Merlin threw himself out of the container, pressing himself up against the wall behind him, panting, doubled up, clutching at his throat. His breathing was ragged, and Arthur's heart broke for his friend.

All throughout this, he had been yanking on the chains that held him at bay, frantically trying to escape and save Merlin - his best, and one of his only friends.

"Merlin!" He shouted, but the warlock merely kept breathing in those ragged breaths, ignoring him entirely.

"Merlin?" He tried again, more urgently. The man, this time, raised one hand, as if to say 'one minute'.

"How  _dare_  you?" Quin roared.

" _Him_?" Arthur exclaimed madly. "He didn't do anything at all!"

The man opened his mouth angrily, but then closed it again with a smile. "You really didn't see that?" He laughed. "Oh, I am going to have so much fun with this!" He strode out of the room with a smirk on his face. "Merlin?"

" _What_?" He hissed vemenously at Quin. It was quite the most distrusting, angry tone that Arthur had ever heard from Merlin. Quite frankly, it scared him.

"Don't you have anything to tell your king?" Quin smirked.

"I have  _absolutely_   _no_  idea  _what_  you are talking about!" Merlin was still breathing heavily, but he was okay enough to speak now, which encouraged Arthur.

"Haven't you caused enough pain today?" He spat.

"I am merely trying to let you know about a little secret that your servant has been keeping from you! Well, I say little..." He swept out of the room. "It wont stay secret for long,  _Emrys_!


	5. Chapter 5

"It wont stay secret for long,Emrys!"

With that, he left the room, and gestured to his guards to put something down that they had been carrying. It was two tiny glasses of water and a plate with two slices of bread on it.

they pushed the items only just within reach of Merlin and Arthur, who barely managed to refrain from pouncing on their the meagre meal. Once the guards had left, though, it was a whole different story.

They grabbed the cups as fast as they could, and drank half of the water in one gulp.

"Don't drink it all, we might need it more later," Arthur said wisely. Merlin nodded, and began tearing off chunks of his piece of bread, cramming them into his mouth hungrily. Arthur broke the stale cheese in half (It snapped! Like a piece of plastic!), and stuffed it in his own mouth, lobbing the rest of it towards Merlin. They each took a sip of their water, but restricting themselves to just that- a sip.

When the food was gone- which was no time at all - they sat back against the cold wall. It took a lot of restraint not to start licking the plate, though there were no crumbs left.

"You alright?" Merlin asked Arthur.

"Me?" Arthur asked incredulously. "I wasn't the one who was nearly drowned, Merlin! Gods, do you haveanyidea what it was like, watching that happen and not being able to do anything!?"

"Sorry," Merlin mumbled.

"That's the thing, It wasn't your fault," Arthur sighed. "And I cant do anything to stop it happening again...! Why do they think you have the cup? And who is Emrys? What was he talking about, you having a big secret? And if you do, How come he knows and I don't!?"

"I haven't a clue what he is talking about - maybe there's another Merlin, and he's got the wrong one?"

Arthur raised his eyebrow in a very near impression of Gaius. "How many other Merlin's do you know,Merlin?"

The warlock shrugged, and all was silent again.

Until Arthur spoke. "You would tell me, if you had some sort of big secret, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, of course!" But Merlin didn't quite meet Arthur's gaze.

Was this an opportunity to tell Arthur his secret? Should he? If Arthur reacted badly, he couldn't exactly arrest of kill him, could he? He was chained to a wall, like Merlin himself. he could practically feel Arthurs eyes burning into him, and he knew that the king didn't believe him. He was just grateful that no more questions were being asked.

Why did Merlin just lie to him? Arthur was very confused, and even a little hurt. More than a little, actually, it stung him deeply. They hadknown oneand otherfor so many years now, hadn't a friendship been formed? Arthur told Merlin everything, he had even trusted him with the secret about him and Guinevere when his father was still ruling. Merlin was always so open and friendly... What could be so big that he wouldn't share it? Arthur decided he wouldn't push, Merlin had had an absolutely awful, traumaticday. Arthur would ask again at a later date, or maybe it would be revealed on its own?

"Alright," he said.

Nothing else happened for another day. No food or water was given, and their water that they had saved came in handy, but had long run out.

Once again, Quin came, leading two guards, but this time, there was no tub of water. Arthur gave a sigh of relief. In fact, the guards were holding a huge tray of goodies - it was like a miniature feast! There was ham and cheese sandwiches stacked on top of each other, a plate of hot sausages, a stack of toast, with three different kind of jams to go on it. And finally, the best looking thing there, a huge cake that could probably feed twelve people! It had white, shiny icing, and there were little red flowers piped onto the top, sprinkled with some little sugar tulips. It looked almost too good to eat - though if they were given the chance, they would most definitely eat itall. To add to the meal, there was a brass jug full of sparkling lemonade, and another with wine.

Merlin's mouth watered at the sight before him. Arthur licked his cracked lips.

"Morning, boys!" Quin grinned. "Now, I'm sure we all know the question, so let's skip the formalities. Merlin...?"

"I wish I knew, I really do, but I'm sure you're asking the wrong man. I honestly don't know where the cup of life is!"

"Pity," He said, picking up a sausage and biting into it. It emitted an absolutely wonderful smell. It was both fantastic and awful. Awful because Arthur didn't think that they would be eating them unless Merlin suddenly knew where that ruddy cup was hidden. And fantastic because it was the nicest smell either if the men had smelled in what felt like weeks, but must have only been a few days.

"Are you sure? This really does taste quite delicious... And look at that cake...!" Quin put the half eaten sausage back down, replacing it with the cake. He ran his finger down it slowly and deliberately, scooping a big finger full of icing onto his finger, and then he gently licked it off. The action was almost sexual.

Merlin's mouth watered. He actually wished he did know where the cup was, just so he could eat the delicacies in front of him.

"Take it away, guards. I'll be okay on my own down here for a while..." The man plucked a clue of slices of toast off the plate, throwing a piece each to Merlin and Arthur. It landed in the dust, but they wasted no time in brushing it off and scoffing the food. They tried - they really tried - not to eat like animals. They tried to act like it was just a slice of bread. An old, manky slice of bread. Arthur tried not to eat it, but couldn't for long. The toast was still slightly warm from being in the oven.

"Have you told him yet?"

"Told him what?"

"I think we both know that, Emrys."

"But one of us does not," Arthur interrupted irritability. "What are you jabbering on about?"

"Your servant's big secret. Shall I tell him? Or do you want to?"

"I assure you, I do t know what your talking about, so go ahead, enlighten me!" Merlin would play the fool. Arthur need not know yet - not like this. Merlin would tell him in his own time, under better circumstances. This was not the time, nor place, and Quin would not ruin it.

"Arthur, Your highness, I am afraid your... Faithful servant has been... Misleading you, to put it nicely. Oh, what the hell. There's no need for niceties any longer, js there? He's lying to you, Arthur. And he has been since the day he met you. This isn't Merlin - this is Emrys. "

"What, he gave me a fake name? Even if I did believe you, that wouldn't matter too much. Sure, I'd be a bit put out, I had actually bothered to learn it, after all, but..."

"No, no, Quin added." You're not hearing me. Merlin is not who he says he is. In the sense that he is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live..."


	6. Chapter 6

"He is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live."

There was a moments pause.

Then Arthur burst into fits of laughter. Merlin followed his lead and began laughing too. It was faked at first, but became real as he watched Arthur bent double, holders heaving in silent hysteria. He looked hilarious!

"Merlin? " he chortled, incredulously. "As in...Merlin?"

"Hey!" Merlin giggled, trying to fake offence. "How do you know? What if I am!"

That just set Arthur off again. Honestly, it was funny at first, but now it was just embarrassing! Did Arthur really think he was so dim? At least he would never believe Quin.

"You? You can't even walk in a straight line, let alone practice sorcery... The mostpowerful sorcerer?" He cackled.

"Well, now it's just offensive!" Merlin crossed his arms in fake annoyance, pouting, but a smile was playing on the corners of his mouth. "I'm not acompleteklutz you know!"

"Enough!" Quin roared in anger and embarrassment. He was not used to being laughed at, especially by when he had been torturing them not a day before. "It's true! He burned me yesterday!"

"While his head was underwater? How could he have spoken the incantation?" Arthur raised an eyebrow as Quin growled at his logic.

"He's Emrys," The man merely said. "I'm sure he'd find a way." He glared at the grinning king with an increasing amount of venom. If Melrin didn't spill soon, he would have to start hurting his king instead. The warlock was devoted to the man, Quin was sure he wouldn't tolerate his pain for long... But first, Quin had other methods of torture in store...

"Guards!" He demanded. "Get me the brander!" He glanced back at his prisoners, and smiled when he saw their looks of terror. "And the fire pit!"

The guards returned, carying a long, steel stick with a little crest carved into the bottom, and a little bowl thing - what Melrin assumed was the fire pit. It had bits of paper and chunks of wood already in it.

"What's that for?" Arthur said fearfully.

"You know sheep and cows? How sometimes owners put a little picture or word onto their skins?"

Oh god, Arthur thought, as he remembered what he meant. It was called branding, and the owner burned a badge onto the backs of cattle. It left a scar which stayed on it untill it died. Arthur knew his own farmers used this method, an although it seemed a little cruel, he allowed it...

Quin held a torch to the pit, and the wood caught fire almost immidiately. He let it burn for a minute before stacking more chunks on top. they lit with a spark, and an ember floated down to Arthur's feet before promptly going out.

Quin picked up the rod and held the steel over the white hot flames. He looked at Merlin menacingly, who stared back with scared eyes. Though scared didn't evenbeginto cover Arthur's feelings.

A few minutes later, Quin lifted the polker from the dying embers, and stepped slowly, evily towards the quivering servant before him. Merlin was pressed up against the wall, cornered. He trembled as the brander got closer and closer to his bare arm.

And when the red metal finally touched it... It didn't hurt a bit. Merlin couldn't feel anything but a tingling sensation... For all of a second.

Then, it was the worst pain he had ever felt. It stung worse than a thousand hornets, felt as though something was melting through his skin, which he supposed it was. It tingle and stung and scorched his arm, the pain was unbearable. He smelt smoke... And... Cooking meat...

Arthur looked on in horror as Merlin screamed and twisted, but his arm remained still - the guards were pinning it down. It smoked - and the worst thing was, it smelt nice. The thought sickened Arthur, and he very nearly threw up. He was on his feet, pulling the chains with all his might, but they would not budge.

"Hey! Let himgo! Take me! Leave him! He doesn't know anything!"

"And you do, your highness?" Quin smirked.

"I- yes! Just let him go!"

"Ah, you see, Arthur, I don't believe you. I know for a fact that your servant is the key, but your so dim and small minded that you can't see it. So, Merlin, where is the cup?"

"I don't know!" He screamed in agony. "Please stop!"

"Make me," Quin replied venomously. "we both know you could, so do it!"

"I can't!" He pleaded.

"Why not?"

Merlin didnt answer, just moaned and squirmed, yanking his arm like his life depended know it, which it might.

"Leave him a alone!" Arthur yelled as he saw tears pouring down Merlin's cheeks. He was horrified to find one falling down his own face too. He didn't bother wiping it away, he knew another would just replace it. It was just so unfair though! What could he possibly say to stop his friend's suffering?

"He doesn't have to endure this. He could stop me quite easily. Two ways, both of which I have made perfectly clear. Tell me where the cup is. Or stop me on your own, and I know you could do it with a click of your fingers. One word and I could be on the floor... No? Alright then. "

He put pressure on the branded for the last few seconds and Merlin hissed in pain, face twisting. But he would not use magic. He would not use magic. He would not use magic.

Quin removed the steel from Merlin, revealing a raw, round crest with a bird on it. It was bright red, and it oozed blood. Merlin clutched it, but careful not to actually touch it. His breathing was ragged and he was crying in silent hysteria. He knew only that he had to keep his magic a secret.

He knew only of the pain.


	7. Chapter 7

A few hours later, the pain had subsided a small amount. Merlin knew that you should put burns into cold water - but he also knew that it was small ones you do that for - like if you spill hot water on yourself or something. Also, he had no water, much to his distress. He was so thirsty... Even more so now, since he had probably lost a lot of it through his tears.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would have called him a girl for tearing up, but he couldn't, because... Well, A -hewas also crying - with sympathy, and B - whowouldn'tcry after that? Arthur wished he could comfort the man, but he wasn't sure how to - plus, he couldn't reach that far across, due to his restricting chains. They rubbed on his wrists, causing them to go red and blistered.

How could somebody do such a horrible, inhuman thing to another being? Arthur pledged to ban branding once he returned to Camelot... If he returned...

But he couldn't think like that. He needed to get back for his town, his people, his queen. He wondered how Guinevere was coping, suddenly being the only ruler. Arthur hoped she was not too distraught about his kidnapping... He hated to think of her upset. Gaius would help her as much as he could. Of course he would. He had a soft spot for Gwen.

Gaius would be missing Merlin greatly - was he okay? Surely it was bad to put so much strain on the old man's heart... Guinevere and him would have to help each other.

Did Guinevere have a search party looking for him? She probably had three. Or more. Hell, she would have probably have gone to find him herself if she had not got so many duties.

Or what if... No, surely she wouldn't have come to look for him. She wouldn't bethatstupid, would she? No... She would get hurt, or worse...

Arthur's heart ached. He had had the worst weeks of his life here. If Quin kept up much longer, he would eventually kill one of them... And it would probably be the kin? . He would likely start attacking Arthur soon. Arthur would, in his position. The evil man would kill the king to get his servant to tell him how to be immortal.

Idiot.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Merlin's arm stung. It was still red and raw, but it had stopped oozing. A good sign... Right?

He twisted his neck to get a look at his new tattoo. It had a bird - and he was sure it was a Merlin. Hilarious... Not. It had a round border, double lined, with criss-crosses filling it in. It was an alright image to have printed on his arm for eternity, considering.

"That looks sore." Arthur commented.

"No, it feels quite refreshing," Merlin rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"You know what I mean," Arthur replied. No 'shut up, Merlin', or 'idiot'. Hemustbe feeling sorry for him.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Merlin lied. It was agony... But he didn't want Arthur to worry. It embarrassed him somewhat.

"Now is not the time to be brave, you idiot. Just accept my sympathy and be done with it."

"Uh, alright. Thanks...?"

Arthur shook his head, briefly, with a sigh.

Merlin's eyes were heavy. They were sore from tears, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Arthur seemed to pick up on this fact and shot him a rueful half smile.

"It'll be better tomorrow," He told him, but Merlin was already out.

Arthur looked at his unconscious friend regretfully. It should be him there, being tortured that much. He just didn't understand how anyone could think that a man so honest, so silly, so amazing, could possibly know where such an awful artifact was. He really wished somebody could come and save them... He even almost hoped that Merlindidhave magic, at least then he could break them out.

But for the moment, he was exhausted. He knew, logically, that he should stay awake and keep watch, but he reasoned that Quin would not return for another day. He arrived in a pattern - every 24 hours, ish. He had no idea how long it actually was. He had nothing he could possible tell the time with.

Arthur was falling asleep sitting up. His eyelids drooped, and he could not keep them open, no matter how much he tried. Eventually, he gave up trying, simply allowing exhaustion to take possession of his body.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Arthur awoke to darkness. Merlin was still passed out in a heap in the corner. Arthur watched for his chest rising and falling, just to make sure the man was breathing. He was.

He wished for a drink - oh, how thirsty he was. He almost wished for Quin to come back, but then realised that when he did, it meant another torture session for Merlin. Only a matter of time before it was his own pain they were planning...

...A lot less time than Arthur had expected...


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur could not have even guessed what happened next, it was so quick. One minute he was staring at Merlin's limp form, the next it was  _he_  that was unconscious. It all happened in just a few seconds.

A smoking ball of beige cloth came flying through the bars, out of the blackness. He could see nothing, nor anyone, and was left to wonder how long they, whoever 'they' were, had been there, just watching him sleep... The thought creeped him out thoroughly.

But then, he caught a whiff of the foul smelling tendrils pouring from the package, and snapped back into reality. It smelt of rotting fish oils, like that time Merlin left a plate of half eaten salmon on the windowed gel of his bedchambers. The king didn't even have the time to call for help. He wanted to, but found himself incapable of speech. He couldn't keep his eyes open, move his jaws, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold his own body upright, and he was already sitting down.

"Must stay awake," he mumbled to himself. "Must stay awake. Must stay... Awake. Must... Stay..." Dimly, he saw a dark silhouette of a figure striding towards him. He wanted to draw his sword, at least raise a fist, but... he collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor instead. He felt a pair of gloved hands roughly picking him up, slinging him over his shoulder... And then he felt, and saw, nothing at all.

He woke up in... He had no clue where he was. He thought it was another cell, but there were no bars. He was tied to a wooden chair, not unlike the ones at the banquet hall back in Camelot. There were harder, harsher. I'd didn't help that rope bound him to the back of it.

His hands were tied behind him and he backrest on the chair, his ankles attached to the legs of the seat, and his torso bound to the back. He tried to move, but found that he could not free himself. He looked around instead.

He was on a wooden platform, that was quite close to the roof. There was nothing else around him, although it seemed even dusty-er than the cells they had been it before. It was lit very dimly, by a candle that had been left to the side of the room. There were cobwebs all over, and on one of them sat the biggest, hairiest spider that Arthur had ever seen. Merlin would have thrown a fit, he thought dimly. Then, " _Merlin_!"

Where was Merlin? He most definitely was not up there with him. Nobody was, accept for Mr Hairy, over there. Arthur noted how low the roof seemed over there... And then looked down. Yes, he was on a platform. Which stretched a meter in front of him before a gap that dropped to the floor, at least ten meters. Arthur saw Merlin down there, in the same position as when he was , Arthur realised that Merlin hadn't moved at all. Beneath him was his own cell.

Arthur was on the roof.

Before he could really process this, somebody crept up behind him, putting their hand over his mouth. Arthur thrashed around, but he couldn't move properly, he was tied too tightly. Then, the person forced open the kings mouth and tipped a foul tasting vile down his throat. It tasted like... Like Merlin did after a day of mucking out the stables. Well, not how he tasted, obviously. That would be weird. How he smelled.

He tried to cry out, but the hand still covered his mouth. And when it finally fell away... His voice had gone.

"Merlin!" he yelled. Or... He would have. He literally could not make a sound. It was like his mouth had actually been glued shut! What  _was_  that  _revolting_  concoction?

Panic overtook him, and he struggled and cried out silently. His whole body writhed like a snake. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, he was completely useless, immobile and, quite frankly, stuck. One of his worst fears was powerlessness, which he was currently experiencing. Maybe this was how Quin planned on torturing him. Leaving him there for hours, days, weeks.

It would probably work.

Then, the man in question strutted into view, fat, cocky face smirking nastily. The face of a man with a plan.

"Your highness," he knock bowed. "I understand that we have had little time to really... Talk... Well, you'll be listening. But what the heck!" He burst into peals of throaty laughter.

Arthur made a confused expression on his face. It was as close to demanding 'what' as possible. Luckily, Quin got the message. "You don't believe me that your servant possess magic. So now, I can prove it. I have had my boss cast a charm, Merlin has no idea you're here. He cannot see you, and I've taken care of the hearing part. But the master is growing impatient."

Master? Who did Quin work for? Arthur thought he worked alone. In fact, he could almost guarantee that he did.

"We met last week. I happen to have the man who holds the information, and he has the means to force a confession out of him. If his king turns on him, surely the sorcerer will give up trying to be brave and spill." Quin grinned manically.

"He won't!" Arthur tried to say, but he only seemed to open and close his mouth a couple of times. Quin cackled again.

"So it seems the master's elixir worked! Excellent! I cannot hear a word you utter, therefore Merlin won't either!"With that, he stepped back, revealing a man in Merlin's cell. He was wearing tattered clothing, but had the air of regality around him. He must be 'the master'.

"Quin? Did all go as planned? Are you there?" His voice was harsh, cold.

"Here, my lord. The king is in place, immobilised and unable to speak or cry out. I trust you know what to do?"

"Of course I do!" The new man hissed angrily. He seemed quick to temper, not one to cross. "Who do you think I am? Not some lowly half-sorcerer like the likes of you!"

"No, no, sorry to question your authority, my lord. I was merely making sure." Quin trembled, obviously terrified of this man.

"Well don't! Let me get on with my part, and you get on with yours!"

"Of course, sorry, my lord." He simpered.

Arthur watched the new man curiously, and with fear. If Quin was so scared of him, what would he do to Merlin?

 _Smack_!

Apparently, slap him.


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin was awoken by a hard slap to the face. He leapt to his feet, swaying slightly.

He came face to face with a tall, gangly looking man. He wore tattered clothing and he was tanned and covered in muscles. Merlin could see the tips of a black tattoo creeping up his chest, which reminded him of his own scar. Speaking of which...

It felt a lot better today, though still not normal. It tingled and the burnt flesh had gone pink and shiny. Scar tissue, he knew, remembering Gaius's words of wisdom.

"Who are you?" He remembered the new imposter. "Where's Arthur?" He looked around frantically, peering through the cell bars into the darkness outside.

"Safe and sound. Which is more I can say for you. Oh, I don't believe we've met. Marius, pleased to make your acquaintance,Emrys."

Again with the Emrys, Arthur thought with an internal groan. Merlin would deny all knowledge, they would get nowhere, Merlin would just get hurt, and Arthur couldn't bear to see him tortured again. Especially not by that stick of a man down there.

"What do you want?" The warlock demanded coldly.

"What does anyone want in life? Gold? Happiness? Eternal life?"

"The Cup of Life then. I have no idea where it is."

"Oh, I know that." Marius rolled his eyes like Merlin was a complete idiot.

Huh? "Then... what do you want with me?"

"Oh, that is the question, isn't it Emrys? I could get so much from you, the great warlock of legends..."

Warlock? What was that? Arthur had never heard the term before.

This time it was Merlin who laughed. "You'd be surprised just how little I am of use. Apart from some sort of blackmail against the Druids. But in all honesty, they won't have the cup either." Actually, Merlin thought it was highly likely that they did have it. They seemed to collect magical artifacts.

Why would Merlin be used against the druids? Arthur guessed that maybe they would want to save an innocent life? They were peaceful people, didn't cause trouble. Or maybe Merlin was pretending that he knew what the man was talking about to get more information or escape. Maybe he was just trying to distract him? Yes, that was trying to distract him, delay the inevitable torture that would follow soon.

"Yes, I've checked. Let's just say that they weren't too happy about a one-man invasion upon their camp. Refused to lift a hand to stop me, of course, but that's druids for you. But I figured that I could look for the cup wherever you had it last. You probably hid it there or something. "

"I didn't," Merlin said simply.

Marius made a non-committal hum. "Where did you have it last, Emrys?"

Merlin shrugged. "I've not had it. I don't know what it is." If it really was still on the island, which he doubted, it would be disastrous if Marius or Quin found it. He would lie his way out of that cell, no matter how long it took.

"I don't believe you." Marius shot such a venomous look at the warlock that even Arthur shuddered.

"People keep saying that, and I really don't understand why. I don't know where the cup is, honestly!"

Marius didn't speak for some time, just stared at Merlin, which made his skin crawl, made him feel uncomfortable and self-aware. "I understand that Quin has used some... Persuasive actions against you... And I assure you, you don't want to force me to too..."

"No, I don't. But I can't lie and tell you that I know exactly where it is and who has it, because I don't know, Arthur doesn't know, you don't know, Quin doesn't know, so I suggest you go and kidnap somebody who does. I don't know, so it's stupid interrogating me." Merlin stood a little straighter, raising his chin defiantly.

Bad move.

"Symud yno!" With a burst of invisible power, Merlin was thrown back into the wall.

That want fair! They couldn't use magic against a defenceless, ordinary man! It was at times like this when Arthur truly detested magic, when he understood his father's reasoning when he ordered the execution of sorcerers.

"Say that again," Marius hissed dangerously.

"You're being stupid interrogating me," Merlin repeated testily.

Was it just Arthur, or did Merlin put emphasis on the word 'me'? It almost sounded like a threat... But it was Merlin they were talking about, so Arthur didn't think anything else of it.

"Taflwch bêl o fflamau!"A ball of fire narrowly missed melting Merlin's face, but he managed to duck just in time. The fire collided with the stone wall instead, and chunks of it fell to the ground.

"Well, that's just rude," Merlin taunted. "Someone will have to clean that up now, thanks to you!"

"Shut up!  _Dewch ataf a chlymu â rhaff mor ddirwy, mae'n anweledig_!" Merlin rose from his casual, yet tense position. As in, he literally levitated. He kicked and struggled, relaxed entirely and became dead weight, but his feet would not touch the floor. Something invisible snaked around him, coiling around his body like a python. Merlin instinctively knew that it was rope, and he was now immobile.

Arthur cursed. Couldn't he learn to hold his tongue, ever? Now he was as useless as Arthur himself! What help could he be now?

"Congratulations! You have officially immobilised the great and powerful Emrys! What makes you think I'll stay like this? Maybe I'll shapeshift, or transform into something terrifying and eat you? Maybe I'll just roast you? Drown you? Melt you in acid? So many possibilities...!"

Arthur would have laughed, had he been able to. The image of Merlin turning into some sort of creature and gobbling up Marius tickled him. But another part of him, the majority of him, was cursing Merlin for being so idiotic. Taunting the all-powerful sorcerer? He was going to get himself killed, or worse!

"No, I'm not worried. What if your precious king saw?"

"He's not here right now, is he?"

"Isn't he? Maybe he is! Or maybe Quin is doing something else entirely with him! And I imagine it isn't a tea party..."

"If you've hurt him-"

"Now now! Let's not get angsty! This is about you!"

"I'm serious, you lay a finger on my king, I will destroy you..."

His words chilled Arthur to the bone. He was really getting into character... Or... Maybe he wasn't? Maybe Merlin really did care that much for Arthur. And Arthur felt the same way towards his servant, no matter how inappropriate. He was his friend!

"Well, it's not me who's going to do anything to him... You, however...  _Ysgwyd yr awyr o'r ysgyfaint rhyfelwyr!"_


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin was doing the most natural thing in the world - the thing that all living beings do. Probably one of the easiest things to do (for most people). He was breathing. Until Marius spoke that damn incantation!

In, out. In, out. In, out. In-

Nothing. His breath hitched. He tried to take in a breath, but his throat seemed to have closed up, like a cave-in inside a natural tunnel.

The distressed Warlock's hand flew to his throat as he gagged. His eyes widened, nose flared, blinked rapidly.

He scratched and tore frantically at the invisible tendrils curling around his throat, face a deep shade of pink. He needed to  _breathe_! Oh  _gods_ , he needed air!

The magic didn't seem to be only closing up his windpipes, it was sucking the air from his lungs - literally.

Arthur looked on, nothing else on his mind but Merlin. He was clutching his neck, a hand on his chest, every bone and muscle in his body taut. He was squirming and bent double. Arthur tugged harder on the ropes that kept him from saving his best friend's life. He tried to call out for help, but no sounds came, and he knew nobody would come anyway, even if he  _had_  been able to. He just gazed on with wide, frightened, and just plain  _angry_  eyes.

Merlin's heart stuttered, his heart beat faster than an insect's. He felt like throwing up, a reaction to his panic and fear. He could save himself...

But he wouldn't use magic... Not until he was certain Arthur was nowhere near. He sensed him, somehow. He was close - very close, and Merlin  _really_  didn't want to risk revealing himself, if he could help it. He thought that it might look a little odd if Arthur really wasn't there, and Merlin came strolling out of the cell they had been locked in for weeks, not a care in the world. There would be questions that Merlin wouldn't be prepared to answer.

His brain hurt. Honestly, if there was ever a time for logic, it would  _not_  be that moment! What was he thinking? Get out of that cell!

But his mind circled back to Arthur, the first display of magic form him that Arthur would see, and Merlin did not intend for it to be to harm another human, no matter how despicable they are. He wanted it to be something amazing, heartfelt, pure.

His mind was drawn back to the burning sensation in his body. It felt as though something - someone - was standing on the warlock's chest, jumping up and down, squeezing his lungs like you would to an empty tin can. It stung, his stomach knotted in fear. He couldn't die then, at that moment - he needed to save Arthur.

All at once, Marius released the transparent grip on Merlin, and cool, sweet air flooded into his body. In actual fact, the air was musty, dusty, and humid, but Merlin's oxygen-deprived body drank it in as though he were in a meadow in the summer.

Gasping, he sank to his knees, shoulders heaving, stomach falling and rising rapidly, probably faster than it ever had before. He gripped his throat and closed his bloodshot eyes. His airway still felt very narrow - he couldn't seem to take in enough oxygen. If he ever got back home, Merlin swore he would never take it for granted again.

"Please don't lie to me again, Emrys!" Marius said pleasantly, tone upbeat. It made Arthur sick. How could another man  _do_  something so  _despicable_ to another? "If you just tell me where the cup was last, it would save you so much pain!"

"How much longer?" Merlin spat, still panting, still on the ground. He didn't trust himself to stand and not topple right back down again.

"What  _are_ you going on about?" Marius rose an eyebrow.

"How much longer... are you going to cause pain and misery? All eternity? Because that's the time you'll have if you ever find the cup... and good luck to you, by the way, because I cannot help you. I'm very sorry - well, no. I won't lie, it's an awful idea. Couldn't have made a worse plan. Haven't you ever even thought about it?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten me, whether I like it or not, you talkative fool."

Merlin laughed weakly. "You're going to live forever."

Marius waited for Merlin to continue, but no more words came. "...That  _is_  the plan..." he spoke slowly, looking at the warlock like he was insane. Then, "You've finally broken, haven't you? We have been telling you what we intend to do with the cup since the first day you set foot in this dank castle!"

"But you've never thought past that step, have you?" Merlin stood up purposefully, though he was still out of puff. He hid it fairly well. "You're gonna do what? Wander round invading, killing, massacring, raiding, until the end of time? Is that the pathetic life you want to live? Think about it... You're gonna watch all those you love grow old and die, when you yourself don't age a day. People will grow suspicious of you when they go grey and get arthritis, when you don't even have a wrinkle! You won't have time to make friends, develop any kind of relationships if you have to move to a new land every ten years!"

"I've always wanted to travel," Marius shrugged. He had a don't-care attitude, but his eyes were deeply upset and dark. "My family... victims of Influenza. Died three years ago. I was out of town at the time. I was told I was lucky... doesn't feel like it. And as for friends?" He barked a rough laugh. "Do I look like the kind of person someone would even consider befriending? I scare them all off. Just takes one look, and they go running. Got a reputation, you see."

Merlin was saddened by this story. He wanted to help Marius. Maybe he would be a rare case - maybe he could change. Just an act of kindness and maybe he would be healed... "Why don't you go somewhere nobody knows you? Start over, no reputation, no ties, no regrets. Live your life from the start, somewhere new!"

Despite Merlin's best efforts, Marius's temporary civilness had come to an abrupt end. "As lovely as that sounds... No...  _Llenwch yr ysgyfaint rhyfel gyda ffrwd o awyr!_ "


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin's lungs were suddenly flooded with more air than he could handle. A constant stream of air flowed into his body - he couldn't inhale or exhale. It made him gag and cough, but no matter where he moved, the air followed. Panicking once more, his hands flew to block the offending element, covering his mouth and nose, but they offered no protection.

Once again, Merlin was thrown into a state of panic and worry. Panic because of... Well, it didn't need explaining, did it? And worry that he would be killed there, that he would fail his destiny. No, scrap destiny! That he wound fail his best friend.

And what if he did save himself? He had the strangest feeling of Arthur's presence. It was like he was being watched... But not the horrible, creepy kind... More... Protective. He didn't know how to explain it really. It was so strange... But if it proved to be true, then Arthur would see, and, like he said before, he wanted his reveal to be under much nicer circumstances.

But he wasn't sure he would have a choice much longer...

Merlin stuffed his mouth with his dirty, rank shirt. When had he last changed it...? Urgh. It did nothing to slow the flow of air, it just left a bad taste in his mouth... Of damp and sweat. But he did not remove it, just in case it did somehow slow the air.

Merlin sunk to his knees and turned his back away from the sorcerer, curling into a protective ball. Maybe if there was no way for the air to get to his mouth, it would stop attacking him.

No luck.

It came just the same, if not stronger than before. Flowing his mouth, nose, every inch of his insides, blowing up his lungs, extending his stomach, causing him to go red in the face. His eyes watered, they were bloodshot and wide. He felt like a balloon being blown up. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this abuse...

Could he keep it together for the sake of his king?

No, don't use magic... He can't use magic... Shouldn't use magic... Won't use magic...

Can't. Won't. Shouldn't. Wouldn't.

Could. Definitely would... But he certainly shouldn't.

But when did he ever listen to reason? He was forever putting himself into awkward and undesirable situations.

He couldn't take much more - the pain and panic was becoming overwhelming. He was going to die. Going to die. Going to to die!

He could feel the magic bubbling under the surface. He could...

But he didn't need to. The seemingly never-ending stream of air died off, and Merlin was left coughing and spluttering away, still in the fetal position in the corner. Marius threw his head back and laughed manically.

Merlin felt deflated - physically, not mentally. He had been a balloon not a moment before, anyway.

You know when you blow up a balloon, but then instead of tying it, you let all the air out again, and the balloon goes all floppy and stretched, and not quite the same shape as it was before? That was how Merlin felt. If that made any sense.

"Emrys, this is getting a bit dull now... Alright, I tell a lie - I'm loving it! But seriously, if you just told me what I needed to know, we'd let you go! You and your pathetic little king, back to your measly little town, not a care in the world. Back to normal, eh? But if you don't... Physical scar's are the least of your worries... "

Merlin, still on the ground, spat at Marius's feet with a tired glare." Go to hell," he wheezed.

"Emrys, Emrys, Emrys... What am I going to do with you? Well, actually, I have a list... But I believe you won't last too much longer... You're going to lash out and save yourself at some point in the near future... It's only a matter of time!" He wore a smug smirk on his bony face. It was the kind of face that Arthur would love to punch...

Actually, by now, it wasn't only Marius with a list of things he wanted to do. When Arthur got his hands on that pathetic, bony brute...

Marius's voice broke him from his malicious thoughts, probably for the best. "I can go all day, Emrys! You could stop it, more ways than one... Tell me where you last had the cup, or, probably the most...Appetising option, fight back..."

Merlin hissed a reply. "Not in your lifetime. I will not betray Arthur's trust, nor stoop to your level. I am no monster, not like you. You have no conscience, no pity, no hope. How depressing it must be in that little brain of yours! All that hate... It must be so lonely..."

"You'll shut up, if you value your life, boy!"

"No, I don't think I will..." Merlin said slowly, deliberately, and through gritted teeth. "You enjoy causing pain. You enjoy causing other people's suffering, as a way of coping with your own. You blame yourself for your family dying, saw yourself as a monster... So now you've become one. You are a despicable excuse for a human being, and you deserve everything you get!"

That was probably a mistake, Merlin reflected...


End file.
